


Chocolate

by UlsPi



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Awkward First Times, Coming Out, Divorce, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Love at First Sight, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:00:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26617108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlsPi/pseuds/UlsPi
Summary: Chocolate/Witcher fusion. Geralt is the mayor of Kaer Morhen, Jaskier opens a chocolate shop there.Now with smut.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 69





	Chocolate

Jaskier came upon the town of Kaer Morhen one winter night, during a blizzard. He carried enough money to pay for a good room, so no one asked any questions - until Jaskier woke up, ordered a rich breakfast, a bath and some information about the places to rent around the town. He didn't mind any strange looks exchanged around him when he voiced his wish - he had been through many small towns, half-isolated from the rest of the world and mostly unready for Jaskier's brand of pleasure, but what could he do? He was a man of pleasure and love, and he was generous with his gifts. 

He immediately rented a small shop right at the heart of Kaer Morhen. The place had been empty for far too long and Jaskier had enough money to rent it. Business as usual, nothing else.

***

Wherever Jaskier came, he had about himself just his guitar and a bag full of spices. Everything else came after - the merchants with the finest cocoa beans, the millers with the finest flour, the farmers with the freshest milk. Jaskier seemed to be acquainted with everyone other than the people everyone else considered necessary to be acquainted with. His own substantial luggage arrived soon as well.

He set up his shop in less than a week. He paid no attention to gossip, unless he was invited to listen to it, and even if he hadn't been, he _loved_ to partake. He was ready to gossip about himself just as well. Most people found it unsettling. 

The inside of his shop was like a badly organised museum - souvenirs and knick-knacks from all over the world, every item accompanied by a long note retelling the item's origins. Jaskier refused to explain anything to the first patrons of his shop, however few they were. 

***

And then one morning he stepped out for a cigarette and saw a tall man with white hair and broad shoulders, dressed in black, and breathed out a cloud of smoke as if it had been his last. 

Jaskier grabbed someone who had the misfortune of walking by and, nodding at the man, asked who that was. 

As it happened, the unfortunate passer-by was a local apothecary, Chireadan. He told Jaskier that the man was the mayor. 

Before Chireadan could gather his wits, Jaskier offered him a cup of something wicked that smelled of chocolate, gooseberries and lilac. Soon Jaskier learned that Chireadan had had a crush on the mayor's wife, Yennefer, for years; that Yennefer had disappeared from the town; that the mayor's name was Geralt; that he had come to the town a while ago, he and his father and his brothers. 

Jaskier poured Chireadan another cup of his magical drink and prepared to listen. 

A few, no, about ten years ago a taciturn man named Vesemir came by. He had three sons, just as brooding.

They helped protect the town during the war, and they rebuilt any building destroyed in exchange for food and a roof over their heads. 

Once the war was over they finished the local temple that had been standing half built for years. All of them were talented builders, but Geralt was the best of them. The title of mayor had been practically forced upon him. His family went on. No one could tell whether they were fugitives or just exiles. They had never expected to be asked to stay. 

So there was Geralt, granted with much responsibility and tremendous trust. He had no one near him to support him. 

That is, until he met Yennefer and married her. Chireadan went bitter after that, so Jaskier helped him to his third cup of cocoa and sent him away. He had learned everything he wanted after all. 

***

Geralt had accepted his responsibilities with the same taciturn air he had done everything. His brothers laughed at him, but his father was proud. That was all he needed, or so he thought. So he settled for the suffocating suits and the common troubles. He had done his best, he had. 

Then Yennefer came, with her particular brand of magic, and Geralt allowed himself to hope for something _normal_ : a wife, a child, a family. They adopted Ciri and spent a couple of blissful years in that illusion. Geralt might have noticed some youth's narrow hips every now and then - but Yennefer said it was alright, so he listened. He never indulged, though. 

Ciri grew up.

Geralt and Yennefer argued more and more each day. 

Then one day Yennefer said she had had enough. Geralt tried to reason with her, or rather he thought he had been reasoning with her. Looking back, he knew he had been obnoxious. 

Ciri was twelve, and Yennefer said she'd come back in six months to take the girl, their daughter with her. Ciri seemed calm and quite fine with the fact that her mother had abandoned her. 

"Oh, but she didn't abandon me," Ciri said. "She needed some space and it's alright."

Geralt had never had a _proper_ family, so he had been holding to the disaster of his own making for as long as he could. Ciri was fine, so he had to be fine. 

Geralt was just trying to be _right_ , to be _good._

Then that sunshine man came, rented a long abandoned shop by the temple and lured in some wayward citizens of Kaer Morhen. Geralt had cared about those most of all, but… but was it _right_?

And that sunshine stepped out of his shop one morning, all swaying hips, ridiculous clothes and the welcoming gaze of cornflower blue eyes.

As the master builder and the mayor, Geralt had to take care of the newest renovation, and as a mayor Geralt had to greet the newest business owner…

And as a father he had to make sure Ciri returned home safely. 

And as a newly single man he had to cover up for the fact that his incredible, beautiful wife had abandoned him. 

And as a closeted gay man he had to pretend to have never noticed that young chocolatier's hips. 

There had been too many expectations for Geralt Rivia to meet.

So he finished talking with the head mason. 

And he pushed everything else as far back as it was possible.

And as the hour was nearing noon, right before Ciri had to return from school, Geralt stepped into the cozy shop of the newest member of the Kaer Morhen community. 

The smells overwhelmed him, swept him off his feet. He found himself once again a hungry abandoned orphan looking at a display of cakes. He could afford anything and everything, and he couldn't shake off the feeling he had had as a young orphaned boy, before Vesemir found him…

Vesemir found him the last, having adopted, in a way, two more hungry orphaned boys, but he cared for Geralt more than he had for the other two. "You have a kingly grace, Geralt, you are to lead and conquer." 

Geralt had expected to be courted and seduced into some depravity - but none of it came. Instead, he got a family. Of sorts.

None of it mattered, though, when Geralt stepped into Jaskier's shop. 

He was greeted by music, something Greek, something blue. 

Something about those beloved eyes telling an overall different story. 

Geralt had never understood Greek, but there, in the presence of the swaying hips and whispering lips, he suddenly could understand every bloody thing. 

And Jaskier was dancing, that arrogant sunshine of a man, black jeans, tight as anything, a white shirt, unbuttoned enough to show Geralt some of the chest hair, a waistcoat hugging Jaskier's figure just right. Hips, elbows, a shock of chestnut hair above his eyes, and those eyes, flowers and flowers and flowers and the morning sky.

"Why, hello, there. Do you want to sit and brood over the menu some more or will you trust me to please you?" The younger man winked. Geralt wanted to outlaw winking. 

Geralt looked, nay, snapped up to look at the man and a Greek song surrounding him, right and righteous as a passage from Iliad. 

"I'm flexible," Jaskier reassured, winking again. "But I'd say you could use a very special drink. On the house of course."

Before Geralt could reply, he had that wretched cup in front of him - chamomile, brandy and chocolate to tie them all together. 

Geralt hadn't even had any time to argue because the drink was at his lips. It was comforting, reassuring, quiet… Geralt hadn't come here to be comforted. 

But those hips swayed and those lips smiled. 

"I'm frankly honoured to have the mayor in my shop." The sunshine man sat across from Geralt. 

"It… I'm… hmmm."

"A man of few words. What a counterbalance to my constant chatting. I've been told I'm quite annoying at times." The man showed no shame or offense about being called annoying. "And look at me, I'm proving all those people right." 

"I'm here to… welcome you to our town," Geralt managed. 

"I'm Jaskier." Jaskier offered his hand. Geralt shook it - well-taken care of, deft fingers, calloused fingertips, warm and perfect. 

The drink smoothed Geralt's mood, softened him in a way he hadn't felt since Yennefer left… Some space... It was unfair that Ciri, being only 12, could understand everything better and more kindly than Geralt, who had seen much of the world and thought he'd known life. But maybe everything he had seen and learned was wrong, maybe Geralt had understood it wrong. He played with his wedding ring and looked aside, afraid that Jaskier would be able to see through him. 

"I see you're enjoying your hot chocolate." It wasn't a question or even a suggestion. Jaskier seemed to be adamantly sure - and, Geralt had to admit, with full right. "You have a daughter, don't you?" 

"I'm afraid you can't marry her," Geralt asked. Once the words that had left his mouth registered, he looked at Jaskier in horror. Geralt had made a joke, however bad and gaudy. It was a joke - and there was more where it had come from: "A handsome rascal like you might just be the right person to fool my little girl… She fences, though, so I wouldn't…"

Jaskier laughed. It felt and sounded like those little silver bells Ciri liked to put into Roach's mane in spring _to drive the winter away_. 

"Rest assured, _a handsome rascal_ like myself would set his hopes up way higher, right on the mayor himself."

Geralt… didn't know what to say.

"Hmm."

"Seeing as the mayor is married, I'd have to be awfully disappointed." Jaskier added.

Geralt was scared. He had never been flirted with, never had been propositioned by anyone, man or woman, since his demeanour wasn't inviting in the least, however good-looking he was considered. 

"I need to go. Meet my daughter." Geralt stood up, feeling bigger and more awkward than ever. Jaskier leaned back in his chair languidly.

And then suddenly he was hopping up, walking over to the counter and grabbing something here and there, packing and tying far too pretty bows over the packages. "There. Grapefruit peels in milk chocolate, coconut brownies and just for you, the mix of what you've just finished drinking." Jaskier shoved all the items into Geralt's chest. "Now go. Your daughter might want something delicious when she comes home to her brooding father." 

Geralt barely caught his many gifts and frowned. 

"I'm… I'm not a bad father."

"You're a wonderful father, Geralt." Jaskier smiled reassuringly. It had the same effect on Geralt as the coca had had before. "Off you go, dear mayor. Thank you for dropping by and welcoming me. Everything on the house."

***

Geralt's happiest moment of the day was when Ciri came home and hugged him. She was tall and slender and it felt silly somewhat to bear hug her but Geralt allowed it to himself and Ciri didn't seem to mind very badly. 

"Alright, dad, I'm glad to see you too. I need to call mom, and I have homework, and why don't we go to that new chocolate place afterwards?" 

Geralt sighed. He stopped trying to talk to Yennefer. She hadn't refused to talk to him, but he felt he had been torturing her enough, he wasn't good with words… unless a very special cocoa was involved apparently. He smiled, despite himself.

"Oh, so you went there without me!" Ciri giggled, looking through Jaskier's gifts on the kitchen table. "Gods…" She ate some of the grapefruit peels. "This… this is perfect. You know me so well, dad, and I love you so very much," Ciri said with much conviction and love. 

Geralt wanted to grumble that he hadn't been enough for Yennefer, like he often did… but as he opened his mouth he could taste the chamomile and chocolate, and it soothed him… Just like earlier. 

He made dinner humming the song he had heard back at Jaskier's. Ciri's retellings of Yennefer's adventures somewhere in the far corners of the Continent didn't bring him any sadness or anger, he even asked a few questions. 

Something was on, something… suspicious. Geralt hummed. He decided to let Ciri invite a few of her friends over and then sent them to Jaskier's. 

***

After Geralt left the shop, Jaskier cleaned up and returned to the counter. A few more customers came in, and Jaskier ended the day having saved a few bad dates, one marriage and two friendships. Overall, a good day. He even had a chance to play the guitar once all the patrons settled inside and on the small terrace. 

It was all tiring, but it tended to be so when he made a use of his… talents? Powers? Whatever it was, Jaskier always overused his ability to know what people wanted, yet this ability per se wasn't the reason for his fatigue - his desire to make everyone happy was. Once he knew what someone wanted, he was determined to give it to them. He knew the taste and the structure of people's desires. Mostly, people wanted to be understood and accepted. All people wanted to be loved. Jaskier was perfectly attuned to those who wanted love - unless that person was him. 

He sighed. 

The mayor… Geralt… he seemed to be the reflection of Jaskier's own yearning for love but, in contrast to…To everything, actually… oh… 

Jaskier poured himself some wine. 

Geralt was unhappy and quite open about it. Jaskier was unhappy and he'd be damned before anyone learned about it. He could make people happy, knew what they wanted. He had power. 

And Geralt was too brooding, lonely and cautious to bother with hiding it. 

"Because no one loves him anyway," Jaskier said into the cool evening air. "Or so he thinks… So, in a way," Jaskier checked his reflection in the shop's door before locking it, "what he needs is… is me. I'm… quite… That. Chocolate and chamomile and a bit of brandy. Is he… is he what I want, though?"

***

Every morning Geralt would come to Jaskier's shop. 

He'd fuss over Ciri and beg her to let him walk with her, but of course Ciri would always get what she wanted, and when she was gone, Geralt would go to Jaskier's. 

It was all ridiculous, frankly, and it wasn't _right_ to favour one business. 

And it wasn't _right_ to stay for a chat and watch Jaskier being all sunshine and smiles and care and joy. 

And it wasn't _right_ to stop breathing when Jaskier adjusted his fringe. 

Yennefer asked to talk to him one day, and he told her everything, if it could even be called everything. 

Geralt could hear her shrugging. "You too need a place to get your things, Geralt."

"You always did it. Which was terrible, and I'm sorry."

There was a moment of silence. "Humility and self-reflection suit you. I'm glad we could talk."

"Me… me too."

Ciri was at a friend's house. Geralt walked out of his house, crossed the square and entered Jaskier's shop. 

There were but a few patrons, all of them busy with their food and drinks. Jaskier seemed a bit down which didn't suit his handsome face at all. 

"Is everything alright?" Geralt asked, having approached the counter. 

"Just…" Jaskier ran a hand down his face. "Trying to figure out what pleases me, I guess?"

"Thought you'd have it figured long ago," Geralt offered with something akin to a smile. 

"I'd have thought so too," Jaskier smiled back and stood up to prepare Geralt's drink. 

The quiet of the evening was interrupted when Chireadan stepped in, more than a bit drunk. 

Jaskier frowned. 

"Buddy, you need to go home," he said. 

"No, I won't!" Chireadan replied and went straight for Geralt. "You… you don't belong here! Never have! You're… you're weird. Yellow eyes… Bleurgh."

The place went quiet.

"Who knows what they thought of when they asked you to be our mayor… You are a dog, Rivia. Your place is on a chain, barking at everyone and scaring them away… not inside the house."

Geralt bit his lip. Jaskier frowned even harder, and a couple of patrons stood up and moved closer to Chireadan. 

"And you got Yennefer! And you chased her away! Made her abandon her daughter!"

Geralt saw red, but before he charged forward to grasp Chireadan, Jaskier held his wrist. "Fuck off, Chireadan, you're not welcome here," Jaskier warned. 

"You. Another newcomer. How many cocks have you sucked yet? Waiting for the mayor to offer his?"

"One stops keeping count after a while," Jaskier replied calmly. "Leave, or I'll let these good people take care of you."

"Yennefer didn't abandon anyone!" Geralt boomed. "She left me, yes, we were not happy, but she's coming back in a few months and then she and Ciri will travel together until the time comes for _our_ daughter to stay with me again." It was more than Geralt had ever talked in one go, and this deed was met with astonished silence. 

Geralt snarled and rushed out of the shop. Jaskier ran out after him. 

"Toss that idiot out of my place, please. Leave the door open. Take everything you want," he spat as he was leaving. 

***

He couldn't have possibly caught up with Geralt, so he called after him. Geralt reluctantly stopped. "What?! What do you want?"

"You," Jaskier admitted and realised simultaneously. "I want you. And no one would think less of you because your marriage is over. I'm proud of you… it must have been… hhhrmmmph…" Geralt's lips were on his.

"I thought it was wrong," Geralt breathed into Jaskier's mouth. "This… it could never be wrong," he decided and dove for another kiss. 

***

A few breathless kisses later Jaskier took Geralt's hand and tugged him in no particular direction. 

"I want you… yours or mine?" Jaskier asked. "Oh wait… Ciri! I'm so sorry!.."

"Over at a friend's house… Come here again," Geralt pulled Jaskier closer. "Should have… done it the day I saw you."

"I'd welcome it, darling, but it would have been weird… Come with me." Jaskier walked Geralt back to his shop. 

They found the place dark, all the dishes done, checks paid. A note was on the pile of money saying they had tried to do their best calculating and that they had been very sorry for the incident. 

Jaskier chuckled. Geralt carefully held to him from behind. "Let me lock the doors, darling, then I'm all yours," Jaskier whispered softly.

Perhaps he had to weigh his words more carefully, because the moment the lock clicked and the shades fell down, Geralt was kissing him again, pushing him somewhere and lifting his shirt to get to the warm skin underneath. 

Jaskier's thighs pressed into one of the tables, and Geralt took advantage of it, seating Jaskier on top of it. "There… so soft… and beautiful," Geralt whispered. Jaskier tossed his shirt aside and was working on Geralt's - the task made more difficult because Geralt refused to stop caressing and kissing Jaskier's torso. He was awkward, his fingers got tangled in Jaskier's chest hair, but for once Jaskier admired and was endeared by an inexperienced lover - there was a yearning, repressed need for more touch, for more, more, more. 

Geralt's fingers trembled when he began fumbling with Jaskier's pants. 

"Love, should I… oh honey… should I help?" Jaskier whimpered and laughed as Geralt lifted his hips and pushed down Jaskier's pants and underwear.

The place wasn't dark enough to see nothing, and so Jaskier could see the way Geralt gazed at his newly exposed cock. The older man gasped. 

"Fuck… fuck you're so…" Geralt dropped on his knees taking Jaskier's cock into his mouth on his way down. For all his inexperience, he was gentle and burningly tender. 

"Sweetheart… sweetheart, you're so good…" Jaskier could feel tears in his eyes for how right everything felt. He touched Geralt's hair, cooed over him and laughed when Geralt snarled and pulled Jaskier's clothes along with socks and shoes all the way off. 

"Dearest… dearest, I… I don't want to… to cum like that," Jaskier warned. Geralt slowly rose to his feet, looking confused. 

"Wh… I… help…" He had never asked for help, not once, not at his lowest, and somehow he had no concerns about asking _Jaskier_ for help. 

"Darling, you're the sweetest, most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Jaskier breathed down Geralt's neck, helping him out of his clothes and kissing every inch of skin he could as he went. Geralt was holding his like a thing precious and priceless and fragile and about to fade away. 

Jaskier reached up, his hand searching for a jar of chamomile oil he had brought from Cintra a long time ago. "Here… a souvenir… proved to be useful after all." Jaskier intended to chuckle, but what came out was more of a sob. He felt truly, irrevocably naked, vulnerable and open, and Geralt was there, touching and having no idea what to do. 

"Geralt… I want you to fuck me. Would you..? Would you want it? I don't have a condom here, but…"

"Not… scared to… I'm scared to move. You'll fade and I'll never see you." 

"Love, I will not fade. I'm clean. I'm sure so are you."

"Clean?" Geralt seemed even more confused, Jaskier wanted to hold him tight forever. 

"No STDs."

"Oh… yes… no, never."

"Good… knew it." Jaskier kissed Geralt's forehead. "You want to open me? Or should I do it myself?"

"What… what pleases you more?" 

"Your fingers would be lovely."

"Just… You… talk me through," Geralt asked. 

Jaskier punctuated each instruction with a careful and long kiss. Geralt's free hand was heavy on Jaskier's hip. 

"You're… so… I wanted you for so long. You never came," Geralt said brokenly. 

"I'm here now, we're here. Take me."

Geralt slid inside all the way through, making Jaskier hiss from sudden stretch.

"Hurt you?" Geralt asked in horror.

"That's… a lesson for another time. It's good, you feel good. I like it slower in general."

Geralt nodded. His hips moved carefully, each pull and push, each stroke against Jaskier's prostate building up to the softest, most tender climax of Jaskier's life.

"Honey… you're perfect. You're absolutely… perfect…" Jaskier couldn't very well talk, with his body alright, his arms around Geralt's neck. 

"You too," Geralt grunted. He moved slow and steady, as if afraid of speeding things up, but Jaskier didn't want it to end either. 

Jaskier came with a silent moan, voiceless and speechless. Geralt looked at him in wonder - and climaxed a moment later. 

They held to each other, tried to catch their breath. 

Geralt pulled out. He couldn't see, not well, not fully, and he didn't know if it was a done thing or welcome… "I…" He went to his knees again, breathing over Jaskier's hole. 

"Everything… anything, darling."

Geralt nodded and gently licked at the spasming ring. At the first taste of them both combined, he growled; he rubbed his lips and tongue against Jaskier, sought to soothe the inevitable soreness. Jaskier's breath was shaky above him. 

Geralt let his hand wander down and touched himself, his other hand closed around Jaskier's cock. He was lost to time, lost to the taste and smell of his lover - so much so he almost missed the moment Jaskier moaned when he came for the second time, taking Geralt with him.

Afterwards, barely dressed, they put the place in order and took the _passion table_ , as Jaskier put it, upstairs to his flat. 

"What… what now?" Geralt asked. 

"Now we go to bed, my love, and sleep. I'll wake you early. I'll walk you back to your house. You'll have your work and I'll have mine. You'll bring Ciri in for lunch, perhaps? I'll love you."

"That… that's very… together." Geralt stepped closer to Jaskier and hid his face in the crook of the younger man's neck. Jaskier kissed Geralt's ear. "I'm not… I won't be… letting you go."

"Please, don't, Geralt. You're my… my together."

Geralt finally felt _right_ and _normal,_ cozy and warm in his own body and in Jaskier's arms. 

"You're my together too."


End file.
